Alchemisland

Laugh at me I’ll halt the steed 

Gleaming steel at hip’ll steam 

Drinking dramfuls from the lake of dreams 

Draughts of creamy hippocrene

Guinnessene, thirst of long-duned Essene

I am Homer’s blameless heroes 

I watch a screen, scribbling keen notes 

A friend’s obscene Opium dreams

As if a neural portal borne of and in mind endowed me with strength disallowable

That of Nephilim and Anakim, strength to make me meaner and keener, fleeter of foot and trigger, a master of killing 

I turn to face my audience rapt, I commence applauding, “Bravo, men! Now you will see a show many crowds paid good silver dollars for, observe how -”

He laughed last and fell first, urged to the hearse, brains pearl pink on the dirt, twitching on the ground like a bolted sow drowning in shattered cranium

Though aged my bones spread like grace’s butter, gifts of copious calcium, my milk strong features are not easily defeated, my nose is long and thin a bloated bullseye but it never leaks

What scant leash I confess I rarely keep myself 

That I would not unleash on the least of the things, impressing life’s brevity 

In forcing the recalcitrant to reluctant knees I am enforcing the pledges of my degree

One knee sinks into the debris of their friend’s once-lucid mind

I turn my sable steed so that the kneeling men are behind her hind legs

Her hinges are the original machine, the hands of God who make what they touch a sacred reliquary, his green fingers and berried, foliate head bearded with chartreuse ivy spades

Every horse defines the speed of every other vehicle

Every Irish King who would call himself messiah, divine vessel

The Mitre and crozier struggle to impart their lessons, they refuse tonsures

Those milkless walk with malleable armatures

I shutter the eyes of the living without shuddering

I smother out life, I am the Tophet’s child oven

The titterers chortled like tickled jackal shadows 

I upraised my vorpal sword, raised on violence, to break those who upbraid me

Like flash-frazzled victims of an air raid, I see pride die as the rising eye

I rise in my saddle, straddling the earth astride my steed

A dog pads by to escape the hastening inclemency, he clambers onto a pile of rubbled concrete in the street corner, his paws stretching provokes dust to be blown, a throne for an old crone no tricks will be taught to

A crow alone, I bring the murder

Lightning tasers a handsy sky then guides her cocktail dress hem back down.